Amnesia: Consumed by Shadows
by KPMsquared
Summary: Escaping captivity is hard. Doing it with no memory of what happened is even harder. Jane and Maura may have met their match. Will they make it? Inspired by Amnesia: The Dark Descent
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own R&I or Amnesia: The Dark Descent.

Chapter One

_ My name is…Maura Dorothea Isles_.

Her mind had never felt so clouded in her entire life. It took a great amount effort to remember her very own name. That was not good sign.

She slowly became aware of several things. First, the cool stones her body rested on and the indentations that had appeared on her skin as a result of that. It was difficult to estimate how long she had been laying there. Had it been an hour? Perhaps several? Surely it could not have been days. Reality set in. This was not a good situation. Tears stung her eyes and she felt like she was about to go vasovagal.

_I live in Boston_.

Remembering this caused her breathing to slow down a little, but the tears still flowed. She hated crying.

Second, she became aware of the rope that tightly bound her wrists together behind her back. Her fingers lightly brushed over it, analyzing it as best she could in what she could only assume was a drug induced haze. There was nothing special about the rope. It was thick with sharp bristles sticking out possibly due age or repeated rough use. It caused some pain, but nothing unbearable. Satisfied with this, she moved on to the knot. Her mind reeled with the possibilities. Maybe her captor had used a blood knot or a sheet bend. Rosendahl bends, also known as zeppelin bends were known for being simple to untie. Hope caused a flutter in her chest and she quickly pushed away the scientific explanation for it. The zeppelin bend was unlikely. It was very uncommon. Plus, why would her captor want to make it easy for her to escape? Unless he or she was a psychopath and wanted her to escape so she could participate in some sick game of cat and mouse; something Hoyt might have done. Nothing could be ruled out at the moment. All hypotheses would require further investigation before any conclusions could be made and that would have come later…_after_ she escaped. She forced a small smile in an attempt to stay calm. Having a panic attack would halt her march of progress, so to speak.

She had not physically tied many different kinds of knots in her life. One summer, when she was eight years old, she found a book of them in her parents' library. Her request for a rope had been denied for some reason she had forgotten by now, so instead, she had taken to mentally tying them. This one that bound her hands, though…she had tied this before. Many times, in fact. In medical school and during her residency. She even used it now occasionally, whenever the urge to practice struck her. The knot was a surgeon's knot.

_I am the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts_.

After realizing no bones were broken and there weren't any other serious injuries (aside from a large tear in her new brand new Prada dress), she decided it was time to analyze her environment.

Her eyes had adjusted a bit to the darkness by now. The room was small. She estimated it to be seven feet by seven feet and the ceiling about that height, too. The stones that formed the floor and lined the walls had an uneven and rough surface. It felt like granite. Unfortunately, this new discovery didn't help much. Granite was by no means a rare stone. New Hampshire, the state above her own, was the known as the Granite State. "Geographical location: unknown," she whispered. It was the first time she had spoken since waking, and the words felt strange and foreign.

"Bare" was the word Maura picked to describe the room. It felt strangely appropriate for some reason she could not quite pinpoint. "Jane would have chosen 'empty,'" she sighed. Maura sat up suddenly. _Jane_. Jane Clementine Rizzoli. _Where_ was she? Had they come…wherever they were…together? Had it been for a body? It was so hard to remember. She could remember her name, and her occupation, and her vast collection of useful (Jane would probably find "useless" a better choice) information. Her last clear memory was Sunday dinner in her guest house with the Rizzoli family. All memories after that seemed to have just…disappeared.

Waves of questions bounced around in Maura's brain.

One thing was certain: there was not enough information in this small room to answer her questions.

Maura grimaced slightly when she shifted the rope for better access to the knot. A . "Using a rope was probably a mistake," she said to herself. "Handcuffs or shackles might have been more effective in this particular situation." Sticky liquid that she was all too familiar with began to coat her wrists and creep into the crevices of her palms. "They're only superficial wounds. Vitamin K will cause the blood to clot," she assured herself. Who knew science could be so comforting? Her mind wandered back to a nutrition class she had been required to take back in college where she learned the different vitamins and what they do. "Vitamin K can be found in leafy green vegetables. An example is spinach." A strand became loose and she smiled softly at the small victory. The tears had also stopped and her parasympathetic nervous system seemed to be doing its job by returning her heartbeat and respiration back to a somewhat noormal level. Things were looking up…kind of.

"Vitamin E helps the body maintain normal cell production." Another strand came loose. "Whole grains are a natural source of this vitamin." And another. "Along with spinach." A faint noise she had not heard before stopped her from further contemplating the nutritional value of spinach.

It sounded like gears turning. Unable to identify the machinery without seeing it and not wanting to break out into hives, she pushed all guesses from her mind. One thing she did know: it sounded in need of a tune up. She stored the information away and made a mental note to think about it _later_.

"My main focus right now should be escape."

Suddenly, the last strands came loose and her hands were free.

Escape bondage: complete.

Her legs stiffened as she stood up. Under normal circumstances, she would have smoothed out any wrinkles or fix her hair. But these weren't normal circumstances and her bloody hands would do more harm than good. Plus, this wasn't really the time to be thinking about appearances, was it? Jane would be so disappointed. Maura could see her rolling her eyes right now.

The door was much less trying obstacle than the rope. Yes, it was firm, but the lock was so old. It only took five minutes, a small knife and several bobby pins before Maura heard that beautiful click.

"Stage two: complete," she smiled confidently. Jane would find her calling these tasks "stages" amusing, and Maura found that slightly comforting. She would leave the room, escape, call Jane and return home. End of adventure.

The door creaked unhappily and the smile fell from her face. She faced a large, circular room that could only be described as "creepy." The gas lanterns and torches, the only source of light in the room, lined the walls and illuminated a large, stone staircase to her left along with four other doors.

"I think I'll need to make some alterations to my original escape plan."

A/N: First time posting anything since, like, 2009. This feels wicked strange. Anyway, I'm not really sure if anybody knows/plays/likes Amnesia, but I was playing it and tah dah, this was born. For those of you who don't know: it's a survival horror computer game that takes place in a castle place in England in the 1800s. You play a guy who has no memories, hence the title.

This is kind of an experiment, so let me know what you think! It would be really helpful if you could leave a comment! Thanks!

One last thing, I ship Rizzles. I'm not really that great with the romance thing, so it probably won't be a main part of the story, but there will probably be…hints of it here and there, I suppose.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter Two

"Some things must not be forgotten."

"_Incident report (to be filed in Colburn case file)  
Date: July 26th, 2009  
Detectives: Korsak, Rizzoli  
Details: When returning to the scene of the Colburn homicide to collect further evidence (9:30am), Dets. Korsak and Rizzoli were approached by a white male (approximate age: 25, approximate height: 6'2", hair color: dark brown) who attempted to assault the detectives with a fire axe. Before he was able to seriously injure Korsak and Rizzoli, sounds from a domestic disturbance from the house next door spooked him. The man escaped arrest for attempted assault on two police officers. Before leaving, he threw a tea cup at Det. Rizzoli. Rizzoli placed a BOLO on the man after returning to the station and a picture of his sketch appeared on the evening news. _

_No evidence has been found to link this man to the murder of the Colburn family, but his presence at the scene is suspicious and it is recommended that he be considered a person of interest in the case._

_Signed,_

_Vincent Korsak_"

Maura narrowed her eyes as her mind processed what she had found. The lantern produced a warm yellow glow to the small office that the M.E. now occupied. It was old-fashioned, but it did the job and it was all she had for now. It provided some comfort. She had found it in one of the cells in the large area she had escaped from earlier. The strange thing was that everything in storage was old—19th century old—nothing modern at all. What kind of place was this?

The door out of the area that Maura determined to be the prison had been left unlocked and she had been lucky enough to leave without being seen. On the other side was a large hall, made of the same stone has the prison. But this was covered with in deep red oriental rugs with matching curtains that stretched thirty feet to the tops of the windows, which didn't even reach the high ceilings. Maura noted that there were no electric lights—ornate 18th century golden chandeliers hung from the high ceiling and torches lined the walls. Her hopes for finding a telephone slowly diminished. It was fascinating (and unbelievable in this day and age) to see that someone still lived like this. It was also worrying. Extrapolating, using the visual information she had already gathered, the estate appeared to be enormous—maybe even castle sized. Castles aren't common in North America. Normally, she would have taken her time appreciating the intricate designs in the rug or the beautiful paintings that lined the walls. She almost did.

Another thing that was strange was that there didn't appear to be any hired help. The only noises she heard were the rustling of the leaves from the gentle breeze outside and her own footsteps. For a house this big, it was unusual that she hadn't seen or heard _anyone_. Who took care of it?

The door to her left as she left the prison area was ajar and she decided that this was a good a place as any to search for clues. It contained nothing of interest. Five doors down the hall later, she sat reading; wondering how an incident report from a cold case three years ago had managed to get out of the police archives.

She carefully folded the report. As she was placing it in the bag, a roar echoed through the hallway outside. It was nothing like she had ever heard in her life. Animal documentaries were a common thing on her television (much to the disappointment of Jane). She was fairly familiar with animal noises. This was different. Part of her wanted to investigate, but her fight or flight response kicked in and her brain told her to flee. Maura ran and close the door to the office as quietly as she could before extinguishing her lantern and hiding in the corner behind a bookshelf and some large wooden boxes that had been left there. Footsteps of something large came closer. Maura waited quietly in the darkness.

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. Rizzoli cried. "Let the other officers handle it. I want you home, Frankie."

"I can't believe you, Ma. Jane and Maura are missing and you just want me to sit here on my ass…"

"Frankie!" she warned.

"…instead of going out and _doing_ something about it."

He rose from Maura's dining room table where he, his mother and Tommy had been having a Rizzoli family meeting. Tommy gave his older brother a solemn look. Their mother was unraveling and that was terrifying—as if their older sister being kidnapped wasn't terrifying enough. Bags had appeared under her eyes—a physical sign of the amount of sleep she had gotten since…everything happened.

"I'm _going_ to find them, Ma."

"You're not _going_ anywhere. Are you trying to kill me? Jane's already gone! And Maura! What if they get you too?" A memory of Jane and Frankie almost dying in the hospital after the siege at the police station flashed before her eyes and a fresh wave of tears started. _Why did my children decide to become police officers? Why couldn't they have been bakers…or accountants?_

"He's already made up his mind," Tommy added quietly. "You can't change that." He tried to lay a comforting hand on his mother's arm, but she jerked it away.

"Don't say that! Don't you dare!"

"I can't believe you. Jane would do the same for me. Why are you giving me all this bullshit?" Frankie began to pace around the kitchen.

"Because I'm your mother and it's my job to protect you…"

"I'm fully grown, Ma." Frankie sighed.

"Just because you're an adult doesn't mean I'm done."

Tommy stood abruptly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Frankie snapped and blocked his path to the door.

"Don't talk to your brother like that," his mother chided.

"We've sat here for two hours and we haven't accomplished a fucking thing. All you two have done is fight and I'm tired of it. I'm going home." Tommy roughly shoved by his brother and slammed the door behind him, leaving Frankie and Angela alone.

After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Angela retreated to her bedroom. She had told Frankie to help himself to the leftovers in the refrigerator before closing the door behind her. He heard the soft click of the lock and knew that it had been a fake invitation. His mother wanted to be alone and he would respect at…for the time being. She would come around eventually, wouldn't she? It seemed like she always had for Jane. Or maybe Jane just did her own thing and Angela was forced to adapt and deal with the consequences. Frankie thought about this on his way home to let out Jo Friday and feed Bass his lettuce. This wasn't the first time that Jane had been in a life threatening situation, but it _was_ the first time that Frankie had been forced into a leadership position in his family. Usually, that was his father's responsibility. He had somehow worked out a way to keep his cool and keep his wife at bay. But he was gone now and those duties had fallen to Angela, and she dealt with that as best she could. But Jane was gone so long this time, and Angela had cracked under the fear and pressure after four days. Frankie had to step in and take care of Jane's dog and Bass the turtle…tortoise. Whatever Bass was. He smiled at the thought of Bass. It was just so…_Maura_. Of course, she couldn't have common house pet like a dog or a cat. And that was why he loved her. Not in a romantic way (Jane would kill him), but he cared about her almost as much as Jane and it was so hard on everyone to have them both gone.

He noticed something out of place as he walked towards the door to his apartment building. On his door step was a large envelope. Large enough to hold pictures. His heart thudded loudly in his ears as he tore it open.

_Jane, July 28, 2009_

_ I finally finished the autopsy late last night. Death for all six was caused by stab wounds to the heart with a knife. One side is serrated and the molds I took showed that it is eight inches in length. Of course, there are more detailed explanations in your copy of the report that I left on your desk. I hope this helps with your investigation._

_ I'm off to do my morning yoga now! Maybe you'd like to join me sometime? It's quite refreshing and helps get the endorphins flowing! It might help with some of the anxiety you've been having recently. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Millions of people in the United States alone have anxiety problems. If we were having a conversation face to face, this is where you'd rudely ask me to stop rambling, so I will. See you in a few hours. Would you like to have lunch again today?_

_Sincerely,_

_Maura_

Behind the email were some pictures from Maura's autopsy. He didn't recognize any of the victims, but that was no surprise. Judging by the email, it was an old case. Frankie didn't know what to think of it. Why would someone send him a two year old email between his sister and Maura? What case was Maura talking about? He had still been in the Academy back then. Frost had just transferred from Robbery when the email was sent. It was just after Jane's first Hoyt encounter.

His stomach churned uneasily and for a second, he felt as if he couldn't move. It had suddenly occurred to him that whoever left this here knew where he lived…and if they knew where _he_ lived, they probably knew where Jane lived too. And Maura. And his mother; who lived with Maura. This guy didn't just happen to catch Jane and her girlfriend randomly. He had stalked them.

Frankie's ability to move his limbs returned and he leapt down the stairs and drove as fast as his car would go through Boston traffic.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review.


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